


Matters of the Heart (are complex affairs)

by AceCavalier



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ace Byleth, Ace Edelgard, Ace Linhardt, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aro Edelgard, Asexual Characters, Coming Out, Discussions of sex, Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Sex, Non-Binary Byleth, Non-Binary Linhardt, Other, non-binary characters, understanding sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceCavalier/pseuds/AceCavalier
Summary: Byleth couldn't be happier with their relationship with Jeritza. It's easy, comfortable, secure... but one morning conversation suddenly has them wondering if something is missing, something Byleth isn't sure they can provide.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Jeritza von Hrym/My Unit | Byleth, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 137





	Matters of the Heart (are complex affairs)

**Author's Note:**

> *crawls out of the void*  
> Well, it's been a whole month since I've posted anything thanks to work, uni, and post-fictober depression, but I'm finally back at it. I have a lot of projects in the work as well as older projects in need of updating, so hopefully I'll be posting much more frequently from now on.
> 
> For someone who identifies happily as ace and non-binary, I have alarmingly few fics about either of those things, so I thought it was high-time I wrote a fic that explored what it's like to be ace in a relationship. It's something that I, personally, have struggled with a lot, and the fic is largely based on real conversations I've had with people around me - all people who cared about me and meant well, even if they couldn't understand. It's a very self-indulgent fic, really, but I enjoyed writing it and I hope other people (ace or otherwise) enjoy it, too.
> 
> Also a huge shout-out to FullmetalChords for helping and supporting me through the writing of this fic! <3
> 
> Now, I'm off to go marry Jeritza in CF.

“Fancy seeing you here, Professor!”

Byleth looked up from their breakfast ruminations to see Dorothea standing across the table from them, hands behind her back and her usual radiant smile adorning her face.

“Hello, Dorothea. And please, I asked you not to call me that anymore, remember?”

“Oh, right, right. We’re not technically students anymore, are we?” She sat down, one elbow on the table and her chin resting on the heel of her palm. “So I suppose you won’t mind me mentioning an interesting rumour I heard about you sneaking into Jeritza’s room at night.”

“I stay at his room quite often, actually.” Dorothea’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sometimes he stays in mine. Why?”

“Oh my! Well, I suppose even our old Professor has human needs like the rest of us.”

A slow blink, a confused stare. Dorothea’s expression faded from surprise to concern.

“You… know what I mean, right?”

“…Sleep?”

Byleth was suddenly worried that they’d said something terribly wrong, if the strange look on Dorothea’s face was any indication. They were better at reading and using expressions now, but sometimes there were still occasions that left them baffled. Like this very moment, when Dorothea lowered her hand, cast a hurried glance around the mostly empty dining hall, and leaned in over the table.

“I mean, you know… _physical intimacy_.” Was that embarrassment, perhaps? “Between you and Jeritza.”

Oh.

Byleth coughed. “No, we… haven’t. I’m not really interested in it, actually.”

“Really?” Carefully tended eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Have you tried it?”

“No.”

“Is Jeritza interested?”

A pause. Honestly, it was a conversation they’d never had, one Byleth hadn’t actually thought to bring up. Everything had been going so well between the two of them over the past few months together that it hadn’t seemed necessary. Why risk losing what worked so well?

“I don’t know,” Byleth answered finally. “I’ve never asked.”

Something in Dorothea seemed to soften, though Byleth couldn’t even begin to guess why. Her hands reached across to rest on their own – a reassuring gesture, if Byleth remembered correctly.

“Maybe you should ask him about it. Who knows – he might have wanted to and was too nervous to bring it up. I bet he’d really appreciate it. You know how men are, after all.”

Byleth didn’t.

“I’m not sure…”

“You love him, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you trust him?”

“Of course.”

A smile, at last. “Then what’s the harm in trying? I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, and I’m almost certain it’ll make Jeritza’s week.”

When Dorothea left and Byleth rose, an early war council beckoning them away from their half-finished meal, they felt more unsettled by the conversation than they had in a long while.

They hadn’t planned to stay in Jeritza’s room again that evening – had, in truth, actively tried to avoid it – but the anxiety from their chat with Dorothea that morning had only grown throughout the day, simmering as they went about their meetings and training, gnawing away at them. Dorothea’s words had been well-meaning, her intentions good, but the thought that Byleth had been forcing Jeritza to keep silent about something he wanted troubled them greatly. Especially because that something he might want was something Byleth wasn’t sure they could give.

Even if, as Dorothea had said, Byleth trusted and loved Jeritza deeply, and they certainly did, could they really push past the discomfort and do it for Jeritza’s sake? What if it was something they’d enjoy, if they only tried it? They might not be interested, but that didn’t mean it would be terrible, would it? Or what if it was terrible, and Jeritza expected it more often? What if it became the thing that drove them apart? What if, what if, what if…

The questions had whirled around until Byleth found themselves standing in front of Jeritza’s door, and that had been the end of their efforts. As they lay curled against Jeritza’s scarred back in the dark and quiet, listening to the sound of Jeritza’s breathing, sleep refused to find them.

“Hey… Jeritza?”

His deep voice rumbled through the shadows. “Hm?”

“Are you… happy?”

Shuffling as he rolled over to face Byleth, his frown barely visible by the faint moonlight leaking through the window.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you happy? With us?”

Silence as he considered his answer.

“I feel… safe with you,” he said eventually. “Alive. So yes, I am happy.”

It wasn’t quite enough of an answer, no matter how much it warmed Byleth’s heart to hear him say those words; a niggling worry still remained.

“Do you ever feel that maybe we’re… missing something?”

The frown turned thoughtful, his eyes closed. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with fatigue. “Perhaps.”

Then his breathing steadied, and Byleth knew he was asleep, leaving them to wallow in their dread alone. Jeritza thought something was missing from their relationship. Dorothea was right after all.

When morning arrived, Byleth had barely managed a moment’s sleep. Social connections had never been their strong point, and romantic relationships were entirely foreign to them, so they were at a complete loss as to how they should proceed. There was a potential rift in the relationship they had with Jeritza, and Byleth wanted desperately to bridge it, but how could they? How could they when everything in their body and mind shirked from the idea? Would they simply have to set it aside, grit their teeth and bear it, for Jeritza’s sake? If it was to make him happy, then…

The start of the day passed in a blur. Meetings convened, seminars were held, training drills were run, conversations were had, but Byleth hardly registered any of it. Nothing could distract them from the storm in their mind, and nothing could answer their endless concerns and questions. It was time for some outside help from someone more experienced in the ways of romance.

And so Byleth had ended up sipping a cup of steaming Bergamot tea with none other than their trusted, if at times overwhelming, friend Ferdinand.

“You know, Byleth,” he was saying as he set his cup down with all the elegance of a fairy-tale prince, “I am quite honoured that you chose to come to me for romantic advice. My own relationship is not exactly the perfect model, if I am honest.”

“Maybe not,” admitted Byleth, “but you both seem happy. How did you do it?”

Ferdinand leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “That is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. It is well-known that Hubert and I practically despised each other during our academy days. That it became what we are now was a surprise to both of us.”

“What if there are… problems? How do you resolve them?”

“We talk to each other, of course.” His smile was kind, warm in a way that made Byleth feel they could trust him with anything. “Hubert is not much of a talker, but with enough pestering I can usually get him to tell me what troubles him, and then we discuss how to fix it.”

“And what if it’s… something personal…”

“Like?”

“Like… uh… intimacy?”

The sip of tea Ferdinand had been taking suddenly turned into a splutter.

“O-Oh! Well, uh…” He coughed and set down the cup. “What exactly is it about the, uh, _intimacy?_ ”

Byleth looked down into their own cup, frowning at the dark brew. “I don’t feel… very comfortable with it, but I’m worried that Jeritza wants it. I don’t want him to… go without because of me.”

“Ah, I see,” he nodded, his tone softening. “I am not sure ‘going without’ is the correct way to approach it. For any relationship to work, both parties must be conscious of the other’s feelings. Truth be told, Hubert believed for a time that he, like you, did not feel interested in such, uh, _activities_. To speak openly, he is… rarely the one to initiate, but I do believe he enjoys it.” There was a faint blush on his cheeks. “Regardless, when Hubert confided in me about it, I was more than willing to accept that our relationship simply would not – or would rarely – involve… _it_. If that is what would make him more comfortable, I would happily abstain.”

“So, you wouldn’t… expect it of him? Even if it’s something you’d like?”

“Of course not, and especially if it made him uncomfortable.” Ferdinand shook his head. “But if it worries you, perhaps you should speak to Jeritza about it. That way you can tell him how you feel, and ask him how he feels. It does no one any good to sit and worry for days on end.”

Finally, some of the tension started to leave Byleth’s shoulders. Ferdinand was right – talking to Jeritza was, of course, the best solution. Worrying and making assumptions would only make them more miserable.

But how to explain it in a way that someone else could understand? They needed information, and there was a very reliable source that would help them more than any other.

Byleth found them in the library, staring sleepy-eyed at the text in front of them, almost hidden behind a wall of books.

“Do you have time to talk, Linhardt?”

Half-lidded green eyes flicked up to them and a tired smile pulled at Linhardt’s lips.

“Ah, it’s you. What can I help with? I’d say I was busy but this book is such a bore that I’d welcome a distraction.”

“More research?” Byleth asked, taking a seat across the table from them.

Linhardt nodded slowly. “Crest inheritance frequencies across different bloodlines. And yes, it’s precisely as dull as it sounds. Please, do tell me you have something a little more interesting?”

For a moment, as Linhardt watched them expectantly, Byleth lost their words. It was something so normal for them, so natural, that it was hard to actually find words to explain it to someone else. They thought of their conversation with Dorothea, and the words she had used.

“Have you ever read anything about… about someone who isn’t interested in… physical intimacy…?”

“You’re not interested in sex.”

Whether it was the blunt way Linhardt said it or the strangeness of hearing it aloud, Byleth wasn’t sure, but they suddenly felt like hiding under a table.

“…Yes.” They coughed, shuffling awkwardly in their seat. “I… haven’t ever been interested. I just assumed it was normal to feel this way, but I’m worried there could be something wrong.”

The laugh was unexpected. Short, half-hearted, but definitely a laugh.

“Oh, no, there’s nothing _wrong_ with you,” Linhardt shook their head. “Some people are more interested than others, some people have a higher, hm, _drive_ for it – take Sylvain for example. But to not feel it at all doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. Think of it this way.” Linhardt leaned in over the table, resting their elbows on the still-open book. “A woman who loves women may feel nothing when they look at a man. A man who loves men may feel nothing when they look at a woman. A person who loves both – or any variation between – will feel something for anyone they find attractive. And it’s just as possible for someone to feel nothing for anyone, in the sense of physical attraction. There’s no desire there, no drive – or at least only rarely. And for those people, that’s entirely normal.”

“That attraction… the, uh, desire… you mean a desire to have sex?”

Linhardt nodded. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be curious or even enjoy if you do decide to try it, it just means you don’t feel that same draw as others do. I, personally, have never felt it, either.”

Byleth’s eyes widened. “Really??”

“Of course not. I view it with, if anything, boredom. It’s necessary to reproduce but otherwise I’m afraid I struggle to see the appeal. I very much enjoy spending time with Caspar and there is a certain joy I feel when I’m with him, but never once have I ever felt the desire to –”

“I think I understand,” intercepted Byleth hurriedly. “Do… many people feel like this?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘many’, no.” Leaning back in their chair once more, Linhardt tapped a finger to their chin. “There are records of heroes and knights who never married, or who were said to be ‘untouched by the impurity of desire’ – which, by the way, is one of the more bizarre interpretations I’ve read – but like men who devote their lives to men, or women to women, history has gone to great lengths to cover these things up.”

Byleth was about to ask another question when the library door opened and steady footsteps approached them; they turned to see Hubert, half-obscured by the shadows, wearing his usual sombre expression.

“The Emperor wishes to see you,” he said simply. “Come with me.”

As they walked alongside Hubert towards the cathedral, Byleth tried not to think too much about teatime with Ferdinand and what he had mentioned about his relationship with Hubert. They got along well with the brooding advisor, despite the strained start to their friendship, and Byleth had almost worked up the courage to speak with him about it when their path turned away from the cathedral itself to one of the overlooks, and they spotted Edelgard in her red dress, staring out across the monastery. By the time Byleth had looked over to thank Hubert, he was already hurrying away. As mysterious as ever – or perhaps not a mysterious as they thought, after what Ferdinand had told them.

Putting the thought aside, Byleth walked across to stand beside Edelgard, feeling the crisp air of the mountains creep across their skin. It carried a chill that promised winter wasn’t far away.

“You wanted to see me?” Byleth asked.

The question seemed to stir Edelgard, and she turned to face her former professor, her usually stern expression softening into a concerned smile.

“Yes. In our meetings and training yesterday this morning you seemed distracted. I cannot afford to have you lost in your thoughts in the middle of a war, Byleth.”

So, she had noticed. Not that Byleth was terribly surprised by that; Edelgard had always been intensely observant. But how could Byleth tell her that in such a dire time, with enemies surrounding them on all fronts, Byleth had let themselves get caught up in relationship troubles? In the larger scheme of things, it was trivial, but it was nonetheless important for Byleth, and they owed it to Edelgard to tell her the truth. They started with their conversation with Dorothea the day before, mentioned their brief chat with Jeritza, their tea with Ferdinand, and the information Linhardt had given them. When they were finished, Edelgard stood silently for a moment, frowning up at the cathedral’s spires, and Byleth waited for her to speak, for her to scold them for being so foolish, or chastise them for not focusing on the war at hand. Instead, Edelgard gave a long sigh.

“Ever since I was young, I was constantly approached by men who wanted to marry me in order to become emperor. I have received confessions from both men _and_ women who wished to marry me, either purely for my power or because they truly believed they loved me. I have rejected every one of them.” Her voice fell quiet, her eyes closing. “At first I thought I hated the idea of marriage because it was thrown at me so often, but I came to understand that it wasn’t _marriage_ I was uninterested in, but _love_.”

“Love?” repeated Byleth, frowning. “Is love such a bad thing?”

“No. Love is… wonderful.” Edelgard opened her eyes and looked to Byleth, smiling again. “The love of friends, of family, is the most wonderful thing in the world. Romantic love, however, holds no interest for me. Nor do any of the forms of love associated with it. There was a time, long ago now, where I thought I felt love… but I realise now it was because, for perhaps the first time in my life, I had found a friend who accepted me without knowing my title or birthright.”

At that she fell suddenly silent again, the smile faltering and her gaze glancing away. The shadow of some memory passed over her, like the shadow of a passing cloud, then she shook her head and looked up again, no trace left of her brief hesitation.

“I have never felt sorry for myself,” she continued. “I have never doubted how I felt or tried to change, and I will certainly never let anyone try to change me. This is as much a part of me as my skin, as my heart and lungs, and if ever a time comes when I want to open my life to another, it will be without compromise in this regard: I will always feel this way. I don’t regret it, and though it isn’t always easy, I would never choose to be rid of it. Anyone who expects me to change that is not worthy of my love.”

Byleth was taken aback. Not only did Edelgard feel similar to them, but she was _proud_ of it, fiercely so.

“Was it difficult? Learning to accept it?”

“For me? No. I have my doubts about many things, but not this. This I always knew, always felt, in my heart, even if I never had a name for it or knew anyone else who felt the same. Is it not the same for you?”

It was. It had never really been something Byleth had been asked to accept about themselves until now; it had simply _been_. Like Edelgard had said, it was as much a part of them as their own skin.

“It’s always been part of me, I think,” Byleth answered. “I don’t think I can change it, but I worry that… that I should.”

When Edelgard rounded on them, they nearly jumped. She took their shoulders in her hands, incredibly strong, her gaze burning into Byleth’s own.

“Do not change. Not for anyone, no matter how hard they try to force you. And absolutely not if they expect it of you.” The fire in her eyes dimmed, her tone calmed. “People will want you to change for _their_ benefit, not for yours. They will try to change you, to break you, to fit their own ideals, with no care at all for you. Don’t let them. I’ve been told I’m too stubborn for my own good, too unwilling to compromise, but I’ve learned that I cannot let myself waver. I will not let myself be moulded by expectations, either as an emperor or as a person. Perhaps it is too stubborn of me, but I won’t change that, either.”

Byleth looked down at the cobblestones. “Then, if Jeritza…?”

The hands on their shoulders drifted away, found their hands instead and held them gently.

“Talk to him. Tell him what you feel. If he accepts it, then you can move forward. If he rejects it, then I say cast him aside. And I swear, if he tries to force you, I’ll throw him off this cliff myself.”

“Oh, uh… I’m sure he won’t do anything like that. Thank you, Edelgard. I promise I won’t let this distract me anymore.”

Edelgard released their hands, shaking her head. “All you need to promise me is that you’ll look after yourself. I cannot win this war without you.”

“I promise.”

After saying farewell to Edelgard, Byleth rushed back across the bridge towards the training ground, their mind finally set at ease again. Everyone they had spoken to, every new approach they had been presented, had finally led them to a conclusion. There was no singular, failsafe way to go about it; in the end it all came down to how they felt, and what Jeritza would say when they spoke about it with him. Relationships were about compromise, but they were also about feeling safe and comfortable. Without that balance, neither of them would be happy.

Just as they’d expected, Jeritza was at the training grounds fitting in some last practice before dinner was called, swinging his lance at an unfortunate training dummy – few of their allies had the courage to spar with him. He looked up at the sound of footsteps and spotted them, watching them with a curious look.

“Byleth?” he asked when they were close enough. “Is something the matter?”

Byleth stopped, blinked at him, took a breath, tried to order their thoughts.

“I… It’s just… I’ve been thinking… That is, about…” Oh, Goddess, why were they so bad at this? “I don’t think I can give you what our relationship is missing!”

The words flew from them more forcefully than they intended, but Jeritza simply looked bewildered, his dark brows drawing down, but Byleth barely gave him a chance to speak before more words followed the first, tumbling out before they could be stopped.

“I love you, Jeritza. Being around you makes me feel… happy. But I can’t change what I feel or who I am, and right now I can’t do what you want me to. Maybe one day, sure, but… but this is a part of me, and it won’t change or go away, and I need to know if you can accept me for that.”

Jeritza blinked slowly.

“Accept you… for… not wanting a cat?”

“Can you – what? _A cat?_ ”

“Yes. What I felt was missing.” He gave a wistful sigh. “They’re so soft and small, I would like to have one for us to take care of together.”

A cat. Jeritza felt that their relationship was missing _a cat_ , all this time.

“So… it has nothing to do with not having… sex…?”

A frown. “No. I feel no need for such things.”

“You don’t?”

Byleth didn’t pull away as Jeritza stepped forward to tentatively reach his long arms around them, pressing his cheek against Byleth’s ear so that they could hear the rumble of his voice.

“This is all that I require.”

There was something in Byleth’s eyes, something stinging and wet that pooled briefly in the corners before rolling down their face. Tears. But Byleth felt happy, happier than they had since… perhaps ever. All that worry had been for nothing. Jeritza not only accepted them, but _understood_ them, and as they returned Jeritza’s hug, squeezing him as tightly as they could, all the stress of the past two days was swept away. Jeritza hummed.

“Does this mean we can’t have a cat?”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope in the characterisations in this are alright! I thought a lot about what each character's own reaction or interpretation would be, and I hope I've got it right.
> 
> This was really an exploration of being asexual and I hope it resonates with other ace readers, or provides some interesting new perspective for non-ace readers. As always, if you have any feedback or comments about the fic I would love to hear them!


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